Microstory 2434: Canopydome

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Around the turn of the 22nd century, a major effort began to rewild Earth. Most of the population were moving to megastructure arcologies, seasteads, and space habitats. The cities of old were taking up space where life could be thriving instead. By now, the amount of horizontal space that humans take up is practically negligible. But these endeavors weren’t the very beginning of it. Closer to the middle of the 21st century, people were fed up with how their ancestors had treated the planet. They hadn’t even considered bulldozing entire cities yet, but they still knew that more needed to be done to recover the ecosystems that had already been destroyed. In particular, they were worried about the Amazon rainforest. So many trees had been taken down, and with them, the little critters that used that region as a home. They fought back against corporate greed, and began to restore what was lost. This was during the beginnings of worldwide universal basic income programs, so it was easier to push back against certain institutions. Four hundred years later, not only can we restore whole ecosystems, but create them from scratch. That is what they’ve done here under Canopydome. While nowhere near as large as the one in South America, or other parts of Earth, it’s still nice. When an individual is standing there, under the canopy, it’s not like they can tell how expansive it is. That’s the thing about a rainforest, which sets it apart from other forested environments; you’re wrapped up in the foliage, and can’t see very far. When you’re in it, it feels like this is all there is, and if you’re alone, you feel that too. At the moment, there isn’t much fauna in Canopydome, so the animal calls you hear are from hidden speakers, but I was promised that this will change in the future as more organisms are bioengineered to sustainable levels. They explained how there is actually another rainforest dome, but it’s not at all accessible to the public. It only exists to introduce various species to a comparable environment, and let them figure out how to survive on Castlebourne, before anyone shows up to gawk at them. Apparently, there are a lot of domes like this which serve this purpose. That makes sense. Regenesis is a delicate process, and slow if you wanna do it right. They could make them as realistic automatons instead, but I think they want to be as authentic as possible. One of the reasons they’re doing this is to preserve life, not just so it appears that life exists here. If you’re afraid of large animals, my advice is to come here now before they show up. In contrast, if you want to see those animals, then I advise you to wait. We’re probably talking about five or ten years depending on your definition of the climax community—or more appropriately their definition of it.

Microstory 1776: Serpens Novus

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Star Mountains rainforest, Papua New Guinea. The mysterious unidentifiable snake stares at me like I just ate his squirmy little children. I’m normally good with snakes, and for a special reason. I can commune with them. They don’t have complex brains, so they can’t talk, but I can convey my intentions to them, and they to me. I’m a herpetologist, which means I love them, so they always know that I never mean them any harm. I don’t know if this particular species is immune to my wiles, or if simply the fact that it has never been studied before means that it’s not in the database. I don’t understand why that should make a difference, though. When I first realized I could do what I do, it’s not like I had ever looked at that list. I actually had to switch majors in the middle of my higher education career to account for it. I didn’t grow up having any strong feelings about snakes. I try to move backwards half a centimeter, but have to stop. He doesn’t like that—or she. I don’t know how to tell, but that obviously doesn’t matter right now. It doesn’t even matter why I can’t get this snake to relax. All I can do is call upon the training I’ve never needed before, and get myself to safety. Unfortunately, I ignored a lot of what my teachers tried to teach me about dealing with wild animals, because it didn’t apply to me. That was stupid, it was so stupid. What did I think I was, invincible? Just because I’ve been able to handle myself in the past, doesn’t mean that’s going to work in the future. Why, my situation right here just proves that. Stupid. Stupid me. I wish one of my colleagues were here now. They would know what to do. They’re used to it.

Lots of people know how good I am at my job as a snake wrangler, but they don’t know why. They don’t know that the best word I’ve come up with to describe it is supernatural. Perhaps it runs in my family, but I was always too afraid to bring it up to my parents, so it’s just been something I’ve lived with on my own. I think I did a pretty good job at maximizing my abilities to their full potential. That may all be coming to an end, though. This new snake doesn’t give a crap what I can do, if it can even tell that I’m special at all. Maybe it can. Maybe it knows exactly what I am, and does not appreciate it. Maybe it thinks it’s offensive, in some way. No, that’s dumb. It’s not that intelligent. It may be the smartest reptile in the entire world, and it still wouldn’t have any prejudices against me. I am in its territory, and I am a threat. That is all it knows. That is all it’s worried about. I try to back up again, but it’s not having it. It’s not going to risk the possibility that it’s a trick, and I’m about to attack first. It snaps at my ankle, and before I even feel the pain, it snaps at the other one. I falter, and fall down. I can feel the venom flowing through my veins, headed quickly for the rest of my body. Before it can reach my arms, I reach behind my back, and retrieve my camera. If I’m going to die, at least people can find out why. The snake is still there, like some kind of psychopath who needs to watch the life flicker from my eyes. I snap the photo. Now it doesn’t seem bothered by my sudden movements at all. I guess it’s pretty confident in the efficacy of its own venom. It has good reason to. Man, that’s a good shot. If anyone ever finds my body, they’ll find this picture too, and see how scary it looks. I carefully tuck the camera away in its case to protect it from the elements. If I have truly discovered it, I get to name it too. It will be my last act in this world. I take out my voice recorder, and speak the first name that comes to mind, “Star Mountain Purple Viper.” That’s not half bad.

Microstory 1593: Leaving a Legacy

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Prompt

I made a wish on a shooting star, and it actually came true. What I wished for...

Botner

...was to leave a legacy, and I have been living up to that ever since. The next question is...would I want to end it all? Maybe...but I would have to be crazy to give up now. Two hours later, I stood in the yard of my home in the small city of Bandar, in Central Asia, having just made a living pot with my own hands. Would I take up that trade for the rest of my life? No...I don’t want that life. The world needs more good guys like me, like everyone, not more killers. I will never end my life...if the world ends with a bang or a whimper, I will be a happy man. I look back down at the pot of light, illuminated with the fire I made and smile. I know...the world won’t end with a whimper...not any time soon, anyway.

Conclusion

Of course, I won’t see the world end, because I did not wish to live forever. Looking back, that would have probably been the better idea. If I could stick around, I wouldn’t need a legacy, I would just keep going, keep helping people. Only dead people have legacies, and they don’t even get to enjoy them. Still, I think I’ll be okay when I finally do die. I hold onto my newfound love of gardening, and help make the world a better place through it. I plant as many trees as I can. I sell seeds to keep the dream alive, and use it to buy up huge swaths of rainforests, to protect them from the deforestation companies. I’m not a hero, or a god, but I believe I’ve done my part. Perhaps no one will remember my name, but they will enjoy the literal fruits of my labor. They will sit under my trees, and walk amongst them, and watch the wildlife scamper, and crawl, and fly. Further in the future, my trees will die, but will seed the next generation, and my legacy will go on even then. It can’t be stopped. In the end, I’ll never really die, because what I have done is contribute to the persistence of life. No, I won’t be there to see it with my eyes, but I see it with my heart, and when the world finally does end—with that bang, or a whimper—I know I’ll at least have done everything I could to protect it.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: Tuesday, May 27, 2081

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Mateo and J.B. were placed in highly advanced medical pods. In a matter of minutes, the minimally invasive nanobots had repaired all of their bodily injuries, and restored them to perfect health. In fact, Mateo hadn’t realized he hadn’t been feeling great for the last week or so, but all that was gone too. He was feeling better than ever before. Unlike Leona, he was easily able to forgive Sanaa for what she had done, though he could tell that all his wife needed was time. Jericho, on the other hand, was not so merciful. He was pissed, and while the two of them were recovering, he had caused so much of a stir, that Parallel natives had to step in, and place him in a holding cell, so he wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone. It was here that he spent the rest of the day, and when the next time jump came, he made the trip with them to May 27, 2081.

By then, the AOC had been returned to them, so they could continue their mission, which was apparently taking them to Egypt. Shortly after they arrived, their next target did as well. Ariadna Traversa, also known as The Escapologist, had been living in the Great Pyramid of Giza on May 27, 2081. She wasn’t alone there. Others were staying there with her, along with an alternate version of Leona. Though Aridna was the only one who was sent through the transition window.

“Jeremy,” Ariadna acknowledged.

“Do we know each other?” J.B. asked her.

Ariadna looked around. Her pyramid was gone. They were standing in a rainforest. Some deserts did exist on this planet, because certain living organisms thrived there, but there was a lot more greenery on this version of Earth than their homeworld. The humans put a great deal of effort into insulating and seeding life on the worlds they conquered. They considered protecting the environment their sacred duty, even though their whole deal was being able to go wherever they wanted in the observable universe, and not worrying about the habitability of any one place. Ariadna didn’t know where she found herself now, but J.B. not knowing her was still not a surprise. She breathed in and enjoyed the particularly clean air. “Report.”

“Have you ever heard of The Parallel?” Leona asked.

“No, what is that?”

“It’s an alternate reality that runs concurrently to our own,” Mateo answered.

“It’s halfway between a different timeline, and a different universe,” Leona started to clarify. “Each can be changed by time travelers, but neither led to the other, and any changes to one have no impact on the other.”

Ariadna nodded her head. “I understand the concept. What am I doing here?”

“Jupiter Fury,” Sanaa said.

Ariadna rolled her eyes. “You guys are mixed up with the Springfield Nine?”

“Really just the one,” J.B. said.

She was still nodding. “How do I get back?”

Mateo consulted his cuff. “You can go back in an hour, right where you came through. Sometimes we have to get people to different places, but you can just stay here and wait.”

“Then I can go through too,” Jericho suggested. He had long ago calmed down, but they were still controlling his movements through proximity settings. He couldn’t be more than ten meters away from at least one of the others, and he couldn’t stand within one meter of any of them. “It’s only been three years, I can still go back to my life. I won’t tell anyone about this place, I promise.”

“We’re not worried about you exposing us,” Leona assured him.

Sanaa continued, “the prison will lock you up if you try.”

“You can’t go through the window either way,” Leona finished.

“Why not?” Jericho demanded to know.

“Yeah, why not?” J.B. questioned. “Is it because he still has a chance to stop the changes to the judicial system?”

“It’s not that,” Leona replied. “Ariadna, when did Adolf Hitler die?”

“I don’t know,” Ariadna answered, “like 1949, or something.”

“You sure it wasn’t 1945?”

She thought about it a moment. “Yeah, because he had that scandal involving the Argentinian ambassador that definitely happened after the war ended. Why?”

“That’s why you can’t go through, Jericho,” Leona said to him.

She was right. It wasn’t going to work. If they tried to send Jericho back with The Escapologist, he would end up in the wrong version of 2081. In fact, she shouldn’t return either. This was the last day of reality before it collapsed to make way for a new timeline. Since Mateo was the one who killed Hitler, and created the new timeline in the main sequence, he chose to be the one to explain this to both of them.

“Well, fine,” Jericho said, still frustrated. “Then I’ll go back in 2084. Will that work?”

They looked to Leona, who shook her head. “The next window won’t be until 2100. I’m sorry.”

“This is bullshit!” Jericho cried. “I didn’t ask to be here!”

“Yeah, that’s the deal,” Mateo volleyed. “Sanaa is the only one who came here on purpose. The rest of us are salmon, and aren’t given a choice of how we experience time. Except for Ariadna, who’s basically been kidnapped, just like you.”

“Well.” Jericho didn’t understand. “Can’t you just make the window go back to the other, other 2081?”

“Can you?” Sanaa asked of him.

“That guy,” Jericho pleaded. “That guy I saw you talking with. He’s the one in charge, right? He can do it. He’s in total control of these window things anyway, isn’t he?”

Now everyone looked to Sanaa, who had spent the most time exploring her Cassidy cuffs. She probably knew more about them than Leona did. “There’s a Help feature, just like you would find on a regular computer.” She started to tap on her cuff. “When I select it, it shows me the options for Call, Chat, and Summon. But they’re all grayed out, as if we need to wait until business hours. I’m sure that’s how we would contact Jupiter, but he would have to clock in to work. I’m glad he’s not there, though.” She addressed Jericho alone, “I wouldn’t want you to go back to the main sequence. Hell, I don’t even want you going back there in 2100. Don’t worry, I won’t stop you guys, but I won’t help you either. I vote we find a way to strand him here.”

Leona sighed. “We’re not doing that. We will send you back on June 15, 2100. Until then, you will both have to stay here. Miss Traversa, I’m afraid I cannot allow you to return to a reality we know is about to collapse.”

“Of course not,” Ariadna said. “I’m glad you have a choice, and Jupiter isn’t forcing you to do it.”

They stood there awkwardly for a moment. J.B. broke the silence, first by casually sucking his teeth as if it were a music instrument, and then with words. “So...do you want a tour of the ship?”

“Sure, why not?” Ariadna asked rhetorically.

“Perhaps you can tell me about this other version of me you evidently met.”

“Yeah, all right.”

“Mr. Hagen, I know that you are angry. What my associate did to you is unforgivable. I hope you will one day understand why it is she made her choice, as dangerous as it was. I believe that you would benefit from a little history lesson. Our ship possesses the repository of human knowledge within its memory storage. I can show you what the world goes through up until 2100, especially in adjudicative related topics. I can even show you beyond that, though it may be best you don’t learn anything about the future. Would you be interested in that? It might help change your mind.”

“I don’t want to change my mind,” Jericho argued.

Leona nodded. “A lot of people have held the same conviction. I’m not saying you’re evil, but it’s unquestionably the reason we had the Crusades, and the Spanish Inquisition, and the Witch Trials, and the Great Wars, and all the other wars, and McCarthyism, and all the other bad things that our world has experienced!” She didn’t yell too loudly, but she was impassioned. “The inability to surrender to the possibility that one is wrong has led to so much death and heartache that it is quite literally impossible to quantify. If you’re not open to learning more information, and becoming a better person, then you’re not a real lawyer...you’re just a walking law book. And a book is no better than a paperweight if the lessons inside it aren’t used to make the world a better place.

“So you can sulk until you go back, and you can plan your revenge against time travelers, which puts you at risk of being placed in a prison no human could escape. Or. You can come with me back to the AOC, and find out how to practice law in the new system.”

Jericho took a moment to reply, but it was clear he was about to, so no one interrupted him. “Very well.”

Mateo and Sanaa watched them head for the ship as well. “Wow, she said. Remember what I told you about us never having a threesome? I’m actually considering it now.”

“Keep it in your pants, Karimi.”

Nothing interesting happened for the rest of the day. J.B. and Ariadna proved to be fast friends, which wasn’t that weird, since the latter already knew some other version of the former. Jericho studied what was originally meant to be his past, and while no one would have said he had some kind of revelation, he was a little more flexible about the law by the end of the day. They let the transition window come and go, once again without having anyone actually use it to go back to the main sequence. From now on, people would only be coming from the reality that existed after Mateo assassinated Hitler. That was what most of them thought, anyway. Leona explained that it was more complicated than that.

People were regularly going back in time and changing history, and since the main sequence was less a separate reality, and more of a series of realities, it was entirely possible someone would come through the window with a slightly different recollection of events than they had. These differences would most likely be imperceptible, like what color shirt they wore when they first met, or whatever. It could theoretically cause problems with causality, however. So Leona recommended they really do try to send people back through the windows, if at all possible. Keeping the main sequence separate from the Parallel was something they ought to be striving for. Hopefully that would start to feel as easy to do as said.

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Microstory 977: Rain and Petrichor

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People hate the rain, and they hate gray skies, but the same feeling of comfort you experience with the color blue is what I experience with gray. Two of the few scents that my allergies allow me to smell are poop and popcorn, which don’t smell all that dissimilar to me, so you can imagine how important it is when I encounter something pleasant, like petrichor, or rotten eggs. Most know that water is vital to life, and if we want to find it on other planets, it’s probably going to require that water in liquid form. But standard water alone is not enough to make complex life. It is the water cycle that promoted evolution in its earliest days, and continues up through today. This cycle is an extremely delicate process, with more moving parts than you may realize. As I’ve recently learned from an educational YouTube video (shoutout to It’s Okay to Be Smart) the primary reason there is so much rain in the Amazon rainforest, and not so much over deserts, and other places, has to do with the purity of air. Contrary to what you might have been taught, rain is not completely pure. It never is, actually, because that would be impossible. Amazonian trees excrete chemicals into the air full of tiny particles, which water molecules attach themselves to and grow. Too few of these particles, and not enough liquid water can form into clouds. Too many, and it can’t form at all, because now there are too many cooks in the kitchen. Every day, greedy people all over the world are doing their damndest to destroy this planet. The rainforest provides us with our oxygen, and the life-giving water cycle. Your actions impact everyone, whether you realize it or not. Throughout history, cultures have had mixed feelings over rain. It is both cleansing, and saddening. Rain can wash away your problems, and clean you of your past mistakes, so you can start anew. But rain also marks death. If movies and television are to be believed, it should be raining everywhere, everyday, 24/7, as long as someone important has died, which is everywhere, everyday, for the grieving survivors of about 151,600 people. I see rain differently. I know that it can’t wash away my sins. They belong to me, and I’m responsible for them. My problems don’t go away unless I do something about them. I don’t feel sad in the rain either, because I find it harder to associate it with crying tears than the average person. Rain, to me, is just another example of how rare and impressive this world is, and how perfectly suited it is to us. I’ve spent some time researching, and I don’t think we’ve encountered another planet where it rains liquid water, and liquid water alone. You should count yourself lucky, so the next time you need to write something down, maybe stay out of the paper, and reach for your phone instead.

Microstory 906: Vertical Farming

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Something that some people may not know is that farming is one of the most destructive forces against nature. It requires a massive amount of land just to feed a few consumers. We tend to think of deforestation being caused by evil corporations forcing their way into rainforests for logging. And to be sure, that’s true, but what many don’t realize is how many trees, and how much wildlife has to be cleared out for agriculture. While it allowed our ancestors to settle down, and start building civilization, agriculture has also destroyed animals’ homes, and harmed the ecosystem, almost irreparably. People love to talk about these new age food ideas. They think organic foods are better, not knowing that there is no legal definition for the word, and anyone can use it as they wish. They promote almond milk over dairy, but almonds require an astonishing amount of water to grow. Don’t believe me? Look it up. A single almonds requires more than four litres. They hate genetically modified organisms, despite the fact that the majority of them don’t actually know what that means. They’ve just been indoctrinated into distrusting anything that goes by an acronym. So what’s the answer to all these problems? GMOs, for one. Done right, GMOs are safer, healthier, and environmentally friendly. Non-nutritious components can be removed, and more nutrients can be added. They can be modified to grow on less water and less sunlight, all the while being more resistant to pests. Doesn’t that sound better? Besides that, though, there’s also always the title of this microstory: vertical farming. A high volume of produce can be cultivated in only a few square meters of land. Hydroponics, aquaponics, aeroponics, and related methods have the potential to feed billions of people. They do so with less water, limited fertilizer, and zero pesticides. Here’s the thing, plants need light to survive, but they don’t much care where that light is coming from. Yes, grow lights require electricity, but that’s just one more reason for us to invest in renewable energy sources. Vertical Farming is capable of literally solving world hunger. Virtually any crop can be grown in any environment, because everything will be done inside. There are some limitations, of course. Rooted vegetables, like carrots and potatoes, don’t grow well using these techniques, because they need to dig deep. But just because we can’t use vertical farming to grow everything, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t use it to grow anything. That rewilding I told you we will do in the future is made possible by this, along with clean meat, which I’ll discuss further in a few weeks. That’s reason enough to support the effort. But if nothing else, recognize that vertical farming allows everyone to enjoy fresh locally grown food, regardless of where they live.

Microstory 898: Gerrafy and Nanomouse

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Research log, July 31. A lot of people know that only one species of giraffa exists in modern day, but what I’m the only one who knows is that that is not true. There is another, extremely rare, but very much alive species that I have named the gerrafy. The few I’ve encountered were seven meters tall, but they were all female, and—based on giraffe sexual dimorphism—I believe they can reach upwards of eight and a half meters. I discovered the first specimen living in the depths of none other than the Amazon rainforest. If ever you were going to find an animal no one knew existed, it would be there, so I was not surprised. What I was surprised to find was a second hitherto unheard of species of mouse that I believe to now hold the record for the smallest in the world. The African pygmy mouse comes in at a length of only a few centimeters, but the shipayan nanomouse is barely one centimeter long, and I do not currently possess a scale sensitive enough to measure its weight. Even more interesting, these two phenomenal species seem to enjoy a symbiotic relationship between them. The gerrafy protects the nanomouse from predators, while the mouse rids the gerrafy’s fur of parasites, and other pests, which seem to be particularly fond of the oils its skin excretes. I’ve by now found a couple dozen specimens of gerrafy, and I’ve yet to find one that does not keep a nanomouse with her at all times. I’ve also never seen one of the mice away from its gerrafy companion. One would think there would be a population discrepancy between them, but I have not seen evidence of that yet. I will continue to study these beautiful creatures. I’ve taken one pair of them to the abandoned Museum Salinas, which was the only location I could find large enough to accommodate the beast. They have broken free of their cage, and are racing down the hallways. I believe they have made their way into my colleague’s truck. I will update tomorrow.

Microstory 880: Lights Out

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You do not know my name, for even if we once met, no recollection of me survived what happened. I was hiking in the Amazon rainforests, just because I had the money, and wanted the experience. I’ve climbed great mountains, swum in freezing waters, and seen all four corners of the Earth. It took a great deal of effort to get to this point in my life, but it was something I always wanted. I have little technical expertise myself, but I can spot talent from a lightyear away, while wearing a blindfold. I managed to befriend a nerd I went to high school with. I could just tell he was destined for great things. He got all his homework done on time, and aced his tests, but never seemed to pay any attention to the instructors. He just wrote furiously in his notebooks, and when we grew older, he started typing on a little keyboard attached to an even smaller screen. He wasn’t taking notes, which was what those little computers were designed for. He was writing code, and even though I didn’t understand it, I knew it would become something important. As it turned out, it was the software side of the framework of the early internet. Everything you do online today, and the way you do it, was at least partially based on his vision. And I found him first; together we built what people today would call a startup. Then when it was all finished, we sold it to the Canadian government, and went our separate ways. Until the incident, we would email each other on a regular basis, and were on excellent terms—which you probably didn’t expect from this story—but I have not seen the man in person in probably a decade. He used his half of the deal to fund more technological breakthroughs, and I started to travel.

Everyone wants to find a way to make as much money as possible, doing the least amount of work, in the shortest amount of time, and in this I succeeded immensely. I don’t want to brag, but I had it planned out well, and I followed through perfectly. This. Is. The. Life. And the last thing I did with that life was to bring about the greatest change this world had ever known, and I’m not talking about the time I helped invent the internet. I am not writing this, and you are not reading it, because this story cannot be told. In my final moments, I entered an uncharted cave, which was just one of many in the region. I found a small puddle of water on the floor, and in my reckless bravery, I sipped at it until it was gone. I immediately felt a disquieting stir, but it was not until later that night, after I had left the cave, that things really started to change. Millions of tiny lights began fluttering inside of me, trying to get out. Instead of going up through my mouth, they decided to tear through my skin; one by one, two by two, and so on, at an accelerated rate. It hurt at first, but then I became numb to it, for now I was more ethereal light than I was man. As the last of the lights escaped, I saw a flash of all of time and space in this universe, including the introduction of a new species, called the bladapods. I was giving birth to the first of these creature right now, and after the last light floated to the trees to continue their development, I stopped existing. While no one will ever know what I did, I live on...in them.

Microstory 813: There is Sanctuary

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I’ve seen a lot of crazy stuff in my life, and not all of it since I’ve been on the force. When I was little, life on this rock was pretty normal, but things changed when the bladapods were discovered. As it stands, we’ve only cataloged about a quarter the world’s total species, the majority of which lie in the oceans, many of which are microscopic. Still, scientists twenty-four years ago came across the interesting species in the Amazon rainforest. They quickly discovered that these things breed like tribbles when kept in captivity. Theoretically out of fear of extinction, they multiply rapidly in an attempt to play the odds. Hoping to solve the problem without using genocide, and encourage them to drop back down to more manageable numbers, the bladapods were distributed all over the world. It seemed to have worked, but there was an eerie side effect that we’ve never been able to remedy. They began to release gases into the atmosphere that had a huge impact on our planet. Nothing truly supernatural has occurred yet, but people, animals, and plants began to transform in unexpected, and completely unpredictable ways. It’s no longer strange to find a pair of conjoined twins that look nothing like each other, or to meet a telepathic whale shark, or to find a tree that’ll adjust its branches and leaves to provide you an impenetrable canopy from the rain, at polite request. Some of these are interesting and delightful, but not everything has been dog poop that decomposes in a matter of minutes, or literal unicorns, born from two mules. There are nasty, dangerous things now, causing problems we never thought we would have to deal with. For instance, I’ve been working on this series of killings in the area that screams bladgas-related. They’re all professional and quick. The victims share no defining trait, other than being in some position of power, such as a company executive. Basically, I’ve always assumed these were assassinations, carried out by a hired gun. But I can’t rule out a hyperintelligent pedal-hyena, or luck fungus.

After months of investigation, I finally found a lead; not on who might be doing this, but who their next target might be. I started following him around, and he seemed to be under the same suspicions as me, because he looks agitated, and scared. Traffic gets bad when a firetruck catches on fire—reported as being caused by a contaminated tank of mislabeled ironywater. He gets out of his car, and starts moving off on foot. I get out as well, and stay on him. He finally finds what he’s looking for, in a church known for taking in refugees from the other side of a wall that spontaneously sprung up right down the middle of the District of Columbia, which some now worship as the “foot of God”. They think he put it down, and they’ll do anything to keep people from crossing it. As a law enforcement officer, I’m not technically allowed in, but the choir boy security guard makes an exception when I agree to leave my badge and gun with him, and promise to eat a fistful of sweatsalad if I try to harm anyone inside. Unsurprisingly, if you can believe it, a three-year-old girl comes in after us before too long. She has an assault rifle leaning casually against her shoulder, which is, of course, still entirely legal in this country. She announces to the crowd that she has no interest in any waller, and just needs to clear her contract. I stand between her and her target, hoping to reason with her. It takes a few hours of some circular arguing—and a vow to let her ride on the tail of a titanosaur, which I actually am capable of delivering—but I finally convince her to let this one go. She even assures me that she’ll return the money to her client, and take but a third of what she would have ultimately earned, from me, and a few generous wallers. I’m not sure I can trust her, though, so while she isn’t looking, I search through her bag, and retrieve her contact information, so I can reach out to her parents, and keep my eye on her. We’ll see how this goes.

Microstory 250: Perspective Twenty-Five

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Perspective Twenty-Four

I hate the term “luddite”. I’m not a huge protester, or anything, I just don’t personally like technology. I wear an analog watch, I don’t own a television, and I still use a feature phone that I don’t always carry with me. I read somewhere about this movement called neo-luddism that is attempting to overthrow present-day technologies and return society to a more primitive state. I’m not part of that, but if you read up on some of their literature, I think it may give you a shiver. For instance, the invention of the personal computer has ultimately resulted in the loss of hundreds of thousands of jobs across the country. I bet you didn’t know that. Such technology is also associated with overdevelopment of cities, resulting in ecological devastation around the entire planet. It can’t be a coincidence that rainforests are being destroyed 30% faster today than they were in the 1990s. I read that somewhere. As technology progresses, so does the desolation. But like I said, I do not belong to that movement. I just don’t see the point of owning all these fancy new gadgets. My great grandparents did just fine without electricity. Well, I mean, they had electricity. But not much. People think that technology makes our lives better, but does it really? Humans were having babies for thousands of years before hospitals were even invented. And now we have 3D imaging of creepy sonar babies, and we can manipulate our babies’ DNA, and I heard this one story about a woman whose baby was delivered entirely by a robot. Tell me, exactly what is wrong with just giving birth in your bedroom with a midwife? And it’s not just health and environmental concerns. Tech is also responsible for nuclear war, GMOs, and I even read somewhere that says smartphones cause autism. Just look at the statistics; approximately zero people were diagnosed with autism a hundred years ago. If I recall correctly, this lines up nicely with the so-called Industrial Revolution. And now they’re all over the place. How many autistics are we gonna have a hundred years from now? Huh? And it’s not just that. My uncle is lucky to be a mailman, what with all this electronic mail going around. Soon he’ll be out of a job, thanks to robots. That’s right, I’m not crazy. Companies are already looking into having drones deliver packages. Drones, my God. Flying heralds of death is what I call them. Ya know, most drones have guns on them, I swear. I read that somewhere.

Perspective Twenty-Six

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: April 26, 2050

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“No,” Aura said, in no uncertain terms. They were standing in their present cabin in the parched scrubland of the Amazon; a place where there was once a lush rainforest.

“I don’t need your permission, mother,” Mateo snapped at her. “You’ve been doing this longer than I have. In your experience, if the powers that be want something of you, have you been able to resist?”

“That’s besides the point.”

“What is your point?”

“I am your mother, and I’m going to protect you.”

“When have you ever done that? You gave me up when I was a baby, you disappeared when I was a child, and you haven’t been around much since your return.”

“And who’s fault is that?”

“It’s mine, but it doesn’t lessen the fact that I don’t need you dictating my life.”

“I just can’t believe you’re planning on going after Reaver...again. After all that happened before—after you saw Leona die—why would you be so enthusiastic about this?”

“Leona died?” Gilbert asked.

“And who are you?” Aura asked sardonically.

Mateo moved on, “I’m not enthusiastic about this. I’ve just accepted my place in the world. Some people work crappy jobs in the produce section of the grocery store, some people shovel shit, and some people are hopelessly thrown through time where they’ve given hazy assignments by a mysterious cabal of control freaks! We all do what we do, and right now I do need to find Horace Reaver, and bring him to justice. I do what I’m told.”

“How do you even know this Head Guard guy has any authority?” Samsonite asked, trying to contribute, but also worried about speaking out of turn.

“Last we saw him he was being taken away by the Delegator. He is literally a person of authority as he was an actual security guard in his former life.”

“And,” Leona continued, “we spoke with him in a magical cave that sits underneath a constantly shifting time window.”

“And that too,” Mateo nodded.

“That doesn’t mean you can trust him.”

Mateo threw up his hands. “You can’t trust anyone, doesn’t mean we have a choice.”

Theo walked in with a packet of documents. “Here’s the report. I printed it off on paper since I know you’re not used to anything else.”

“Thank you, brother,” Leona said, taking the documents from him.

“What is this? You’re helping them? Is that information on Reaver’s whereabouts?” Aura became more furious than she already was.

“They called me last year to ask me to get in touch with Boyce’s loyalists so that we could locate and keep tabs on Reaver,” Theo explained to her before debriefing the team. “He’s been lying low and moving around a lot, but we’re confident he’s in Tasmania at the moment.”

“We have a notable disadvantage,” Leona said. “When we confront him, he’ll have already experienced the day, so he will know exactly how to avoid us, kill us, or do whatever else he wants.”

“How do we stop someone that powerful?” Gilbert asked.

“We need to call Harrison and ask for help with that.”

“You already did.” Ulinthra came in with fanfare. “Last time I experienced this day, we spoke and decided to do nothing, so Reaver doesn’t know we’re working together. This time around, we’ll go at him, and he’ll never see you coming.”

“Who is this?”

“Mr. Boyce,” she replied. “It’s nice to meet you again for the very first time.”

“I’m sorry?”

“She relives days, just like Reaver.” Leona, always having to explain things to the lessers. “She is his counterpart.”

“Oh,” Gilbert smirked. “What have you been waiting for? If you could have stopped him at any time, why not do it?”

“We both relive days, but he has an advantage over me.”

“What would that be?” Aura asked.

“He’s more violent and scary. Remove time travel from the equation, and he is still a formidable opponent.”

Mateo echoed a line he had said when they first met, “fair enough. What do we do?”

“I don’t know,” Ulinthra said bluntly. “I’ve done my part. I helped you yesterday, so that you could change the timeline today. What you do with that is your decision, but know that I will not help you again. This is your one and only favor. Besides when I lent Harrison to you for several years.”

“Assuming we fail,” Leona began, “why would you not help again? Do you not want to stop him as much as we do?”

“He contacted me after getting out of prison. I don’t attack him directly, and he leaves me alone. You’re my loophole. I suggest you not waste your opportunity.” Ulinthra walked away, refusing to explain herself further.

“I thought she was supposed to have changed her ways,” Mateo said.

Leona watched as Ulinthra was leaving. “You can add some croutons, but you can’t turn chicken shit into chicken salad.”

Theo laughed. “Well said, little sister.”

“I’m never going to get used to you being older than me.”

“Honey, I was older than you before I was born.”

Changing the subject, Aura declared, “I’m coming with you, so if we’re going to Tasmania, I’ll need time to pack.”

Frida appeared out of nowhere. “No. They go alone.”

A stunned Aura tried reaching out to her daughter, but she was gone again too quickly. “Aquila...”

“What was that? Why did she leave so quickly? Is she coming back?” Samsonite was devastated.

“She is a choosing one,” Leona said with her eyes squinted on the spot where Frida was once standing. “But there must be some kind of hierarchy. Her brief jumps allow her to say something in a hundred and forty characters or less, but the others don’t let her stay too long. That’s just my hypothesis, though.”

“Mateo,” Aura said, holding on to his shoulders so that he was focused on her. “If your sister wants you to do something, then do it. But keep your phone with you.”

Because of the curve of the Earth, the trip to Tasmania was taking them over Antarctica. Mateo, Leona, and Gilbert sat in their seats without speaking as the artificial intelligence with no programmed personality continued flying them towards their destination. But then something went wrong, as one might expect for the couple. There were just no easy days. Not for them. Not anymore. With no warning, the aircraft lurched and shuddered. All of the electrical systems shut down at once, sending them shooting towards the surface. But they were not falling as steeply as Mateo would have thought. “What’s happening?” They were urgently but not chaotically getting into their parachutes.

“Safety measures!” Leona explained. “The plane will crash, but it will glide to a certain degree before that happens! Open the escape hatch carefully.”

Gilbert crawled over and tried opening the hatch, but it wasn’t working. He struggled with it for a few moments before the nose tipped down. Leona and Mateo rolled towards the front, but Gilbert was able to hold on to the door handle. He grabbed the fire extinguisher from the wall as the other two were trying to climb back up to meet him. He banged on the latch over and over again, but Mateo couldn’t tell if he was making any progress. Just at the right time, he hit the latch one more time with as much strength as he possessed while the plane tipped over so that he was at the bottom. The added force caused the hatch to burst open and break off, pulling Gilbert out with it. Mateo wasn’t prepared for this either, and was sent hurtling out the opening, slamming his head on the edge as he was leaving.

Mateo woke up in a tent. “Leona!”

“Careful,” Gilbert insisted. “You banged your head pretty bad.”

“How did I get here?”

“Your parachute opened on its own just before reaching your lower limit. We’re somewhere in Antarctica. Near the sea.”

“Where is Leona?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where’s the plane, Boyce!”

“It’s a few klicks southwest of our position.”

“Was Leona on it when it crashed?”

“I couldn’t tell you. She isn’t responding to my calls, and the beacon doesn’t give me that information.”

“Why are we still here if we know where the plane is?”

“What did you want me to do? Drag you? I’m no spring chicken.”

“Well, I’m awake now, so let’s go.”

They packed the tent and set out to look for Leona. It was snowy and windy, but not as bad as Mateo would have expected. They were pretty far north, and due to climate change, Antarctica wasn’t getting any colder. “What the hell are those?” Mateo asked. The beach was full of crabs.

“King crabs,” Gilbert explained. “It’s a global warming thing. Just ignore them.”

Mateo was about to say something else when his phone rang. It was Leona. “Where are you?—It does?—How do I open that?” Leona had told him that their phones would provide them with each other’s coordinates. “Okay, I see you now. We’re not far away. We can meet in the middle.” They continued walking, but much faster now. After awhile, they began to hear a buzzing sound. “Leona what is that?—It could be Reaver.—I know it could be a rescue team, but we can’t take that chance.—You have to hide.—It’s not too late! Hide! It’s almost midnight central!”

They ran as fast as they could. Gilbert had trouble keeping up, but that didn’t matter. Mateo continued running until he could see Leona in the distance. But then he saw that the snowmobile in pursuit was growing closer to her. “You hide,” Leona instructed him from the phone. “I love you.” Leona put her phone away and stared at him, unmoving. Midnight struck and sent them to the future, which would have been a good thing if no one knew where they were, but the snowmobile driver had her coordinates, and when the three salmon reappeared in the timestream, they were waiting for her.

Mateo watched helplessly as Leona was being escorted into the aircraft. He began running again, but it was too late. The plane took off, leaving the other two behind.

“At least they didn’t take us as well,” Gilbert said after catching up.

“Don’t be so selfish,” Mateo spat back.

“It’s not selfish. It means Leona has a chance to be rescued. Call that Theo guy and ask him where Reaver is now.”

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